I don’t drive. Please note that I said “don’t” and not “can’t.” I have a driver’s license, but I have never been able to get past the crippling and overwhelming fear I have of riding in cars, let alone actually driving a car. There has never been a time in my life when I have been comfortable behind the wheel. I never noticed it as much when I was a child. We rode around in a van that didn’t have seats, nevermind seatbelts, and we often were taken on hours-long road trips in the back of a pickup truck.
It wasn’t until I turned 15 and my dad tried to teach me to drive that I realized that there was no way, nor would there ever BE a way that I could drive. Of course, admitting that sort of defeat would have been embarrassing to everyone involved, so I just went along through high school with the “oh, I just haven’t gotten around to it” attitude. When I was 18, I was cajoled into taking the test by my “best friend,” who – at that time – I believe had my best intentions at heart. I failed the test three times before the exasperated instructor finally just relented and passed me.
That was in September of 1989. I have not driven a car since.
My earliest memories as a child involved being on a swingset, and seeing a truck running towards me out-of-control. My next memory is of watching the whole accident unfold before me. I then remember an empty swing, still swinging back and forth. I’m not even sure if I was swinging on the swings or driving the car, because I don’t believe these memories are from this lifetime.
In any event, I watched this video today that my sister posted on her wall. Although it turned out to be a huge panic trigger for me, I think people need to see it for two reasons: A) because these are the real-world consequences of dicking around while driving and, on a more personal level, B) so that people can feel what I feel every time I get into a car.
Proceed with caution. This video is graphic. Viewer discretion is advised.